By Its Definition
by ev1l-ch1b1-urd
Summary: An angsty Shin, in a bad mood. Shincentric introspection.It's always ShinKumi in my world, hehehe! please read and review.


_**By its Definition. A gokusen songfic. Standard disclaimers apply.**_

The song is "3 Libras" by A Perfect Circle. A song that was on the hit chart of a well-known radio station from where I am, for two years.

_**threw you the obvious**_

_**and you flew**_

_**with it on your back**_

_**a name in your recollection,**_

_**thrown down among a million same.**_

For months he'd been telling himself he was okay. It was nothing more than a teenage infatuation. That it was nothing more than a phase of his youth.

It wasn't serious. It wasn't serious. It wasn't serious.

Fsck.

If it wasn't serious, he wouldn't be in this state.

And considering he thought love, females, and the complications that arise from those kinds of relationships, were ridiculously silly, and wasn't something he had any sort of interest in, the more he was convinced that this was not something he'd get over or push aside and ignore that easily, if at all.

He had always felt pride in being in complete control of his emotions, his actions, and most aspects of his life. He could do what he wanted. He lived alone, and answered to no one.

Until her.

He didn't expect to feel this way so soon. Nor did he expect to feel this way for _her,_ of all people.

Hell, he didn't want to feel this way, at all, _ever_.

It was too much effort and inconvenience to place value in people, much less emotions. He already had his hands full, trying to keep his friends out of trouble, he didn't need another person to look out for, another person to alter his routine.

But one day, he had just realized, as if waking up in a dream, that he was doing it, already.

Since when had he become oblivious to what he did? Since when did he unknowingly start giving a damn about her? Since when? Why? How?

He'd never had to ask himself so many questions, in his still, relatively short-lived life.

He remembered Noda asking him if he liked her. And as surprised as he was by his own answer, he was equally surprised that it was true. And that his feelings had nothing to do with her physical appearance, and was in fact, at a loss at what brought him to this miserable state.

It seemed that the whole school already had suspicions about his feelings for her, and he couldn't really blame them. He had never been so lacking in control over his emotions, his actions, his physical expressions, before. Even Kuma, the dumbest person in the whole school, could see how he really felt about her. It made him feel extremely helpless, foolish, and weak.

But he didn't care so much about all that. What really, _really_ irritated him beyond all patience, was just this one thing.

He was nothing more to her than a student.

And while she did have a personal, special love for _her class_, it only made him feel worse that her feelings for him was no different from her feelings for Ucchi, or Minami, or Kuma.

They were all the same. He was the same as the 20-30 other people in her classroom, not including her henchmen who most likely shared the same level of affection she gave them, her students.

What he hated, more than anything, was that to her, he was no one special.

_**difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed**_

_**and passed over**_

_**when i've looked right through**_

_**to see you naked and oblivious**_

He was no one special to her, while he...he would give up anything.

Anything.

Just to have her look at him, _really look at him and see him and understand him._

He would give anything to own even a little space in her heart.

That was a lie. He was a selfish jerk who always knew what he wanted and got it through any and all means. _Just a little space would never be enough for him._

He wanted her to love him. Just him. It was okay with him that she cared about every lost, stray, persecuted living thing out there, but he wanted to be what disgustingly sappy people would probably refer to as _the One._

_That he was even using that term absolutely appalled him. _

He could understand her every mood, second-guess her every action, could accurately guess what went through that erratic mind of hers, every single time, but she didn't know him.

Not really. Nowhere near as well as he knew her.

Because he was only her student.

_**and you...**_

She didn't even need to ask. He took care of things that she'd probably involve herself in, whether she knew it or not, if only to save her the trouble, knowing she wouldn't allow him to get involved, if she found out.

_**don't...see...**_

So she went through each day, completely oblivious to the lengths he went through to make things easier for her. And while he didn't really do those things to get credit, it would be nice if she'd notice...even just once...

_**...me.**_

_...the things he did for her._

_**but i threw you the obvious**_

The way he never said "no" to her.

The way he'd always have the information she needed.

The way he was always there for her, for as much as she violently protested, to the point she'd finally grown tired of repeating herself.

The way he looked at her.

The fact that he kept turning up where she was..._accidentally._

The way he was always coming by to visit...or something.

_**just to see if there's more behind**_

Didn't she wonder why?

Did she honestly believe it was all a coincidence?

Didn't she ever ask herself if maybe there was a reason...

...that was different from what they seemed innocently enough, to be?

_**the eyes of a fallen angel,**_

Or did she know, but simply did not want to hurt him?

Did she know, but could not accept him, for a lot of reasons?

Was it because she didn't feel the same?

Was there someone else (however unlikely.) ?

Or was it some moral issue, that she couldn't ignore?

_**the eyes of a tragedy**_

Or was she simply as dense, and oblivious as she seemed to be?

Were the gods simply playing some sick, twisted joke, and reaped amusement from his misery?

_**here i am expecting **_

_**just a little bit**_

_**too much **_

_**from the wounded**_

_**but i see through it all**_

But even though it was a hopeless situation, he couldn't ignore it.

He couldn't stop himself.

He couldn't say no.

He enjoyed their little private conversations. On the rooftop, at her house...the time he spent with her at school, and with her family...walking her home, every now and then. Joining them for dinner. Sparring with Tetsu, Minoru, and Kyou-san. Chatting with her grandfather, about school, _about her._ Pissing her off, making her laugh, making very sure she wasn't in trouble. Covering for her when she was.

He didn't care about how she looked. All he saw was the small, quirky things, the serious, sometimes disturbing things, the funny and the stupid things that made her the person she was...and if you put away oddity, every strangeness she possessed, underneath it all he found that they weren't really that different.

In fact, they were almost exactly the same.

_**and i...**_

She hated to lose, was combative, just as selfish and stubborn at what she wanted. Just as inflexible. Just as opinionated and adamant about what she believed in.

_**...see...**_

They both had people they looked after. People they valued and were valued by. People who weren't really that closely related to them, if you excluded her grandfather, which was the only difference in that aspect.

Just as idealistic. Just as resourceful, and capable.

_**...you.**_

Each, hiding a side of them, they couldn't afford others to see. Each able to see what the other was keeping a secret.

And for all her intuition in so many things, he wondered how she still couldn't notice.

Then again, he hadn't really realized just how he felt, until now. It happened so gradually, that he never realized when he started to feel this way. It had felt so natural to be always around her, to look out for and worry about her, until suddenly it came out of his mouth.

" _i like her...probably."_

_**so i threw you the obvious**_

She was always fetching him from the roof top, sometimes for no good reason, other than to argue.

She always asked him for his opinion, from absolutely stupid things, to really serious things.

She always followed his advice, and listened.

She popped in, unexpectedly, at his apartment, from time to time.

Nope. This was probably a revolting side-effect of people in this particular emotional state-wishful thinking. After all...

_**to see what occurs behind**_

She always called him the most irritatingly juvenile things, like "brat," and "kid."

She always treated him with the same, wholesome attitude she treated others.

_**the eyes of a fallen angel**_

She never showed him any weakness. Which told volumes of how close they really were-which wasn't that close, at all.

_**eyes of a tragedy.**_

She saw him as a boy, and not a man she could seriously consider a future with.

_**oh well. **_

This was all true. It was pointless to care about someone who saw you as nothing more than a plant in her garden. Someone who needed cultivating, care and attention.

_**apparently nothing.**_

Something to protect when threatened, or gloat over when in the best of conditions...

...but not someone you spend and shared the rest of your life with.

_**you don't see me.**_

While he, in his inexperience, in his own oblivious innocence, had given her the one thing he couldn't take back, because he _was_ stubborn, he _was _inflexible, because he wanted what he wanted, and refused to settle for anything less. _H_e _refused to give her up._

_**you don't see me at all.**_

And wasn't that just the real tragedy?


End file.
